“He fell over at my feet,” she continued. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. "Nor any one else, I suspect," answered Ireton, winking significantly. ” “You must admit,” he declared, “that to us—who had seen you—the thought of your trying anything else was amazing. ‘At this present, I must appropriate Lady Bicknacre.
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